


March

by ottermo



Series: Fandot Creativity [15]
Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-06 05:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12204552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottermo/pseuds/ottermo
Summary: Backdated fills from the 29th Fandot Creativity Night. So far: Mr Birling wants to visit the year 1966, Carolyn gets a soulmate, Arthur collects some eggs, and the crew go on a very special picnic.





	1. Time Travel

 

“Mr Birling phoned me tomorrow,” said Carolyn casually, as they climbed back aboard, ready to leave the Battle of Hastings well and truly behind them. “He’s decided he wants to watch the 1966 World Cup Final again. So we’ll have to be careful not to seat him anywhere near his local-time self…”

Arthur was amazed. “Wow! Mr Birling was alive in 1966?”

She tutted. “Yes, Arthur. We’re picking him up in 2010. You were counting from 3032 again, weren’t you?”

“Ohhhh, probably.”

The two of them drifted out into the main part of the timeflyer, leaving the two pilots at the controls.

“What’s this?” Douglas said, interested. “A regular customer?”

Martin released the temporal anchor switch, to allow them to move in time again. “Apparently. I’ve heard about him before, but he hasn’t booked a trip since I’ve been here full-time.” He paused to consider. “Actually, I think the first time I met them, they were on their way to pick him up to see a gladiator fight in Ancient Rome. They rushed off pretty quickly.”

“Quite the pressing engagement,” Douglas acknowledged. For a moment he looked as though he would say something more, but didn’t.

Martin took hold of the controls, and thought wistfully of the time when they’d had this conversation the other way round - when Douglas had been the knowledgable one, who’d been with Carolyn and Arthur for years before anyone else had come on the scene. The further they strayed from the rupture in Douglas’s timeline, the more distant those wrong memories became, but every now and then one shone through: that knowing smile, the twinkle of the experienced eye.

Perhaps, on the bright side, Martin might have the edge in the Talisker heist, just this once.

 


	2. Soulmate

 

Not a wrinkle on her skin, no matter how much she frowned at the world, and not a single white hair, however many times Arthur gave her the fright of her life. She had always taken pride in it: her evident youth was proof that she had made it this far all on her own, needing none of the stability or inner peace that finding your soulmate was supposed to bring. Chumps, the lot of them - so smug upon finding the first signs of ageing, so sentimental, tracing every mark on their lover’s skin as though it was a trophy.

Carolyn didn’t see why anyone would long for aching limbs and failing eyesight - had survived two marriages without gaining a day. Once, Ruth had accused her of marrying men who were obviously wrong for her specifically to avoid the unavoidable: it was fate, her sister said, haughtily, and she might as well stop trying to outrun it.

But why stop running, when youth would spring eternal?

Even after Martin and Douglas got their first lines, she remained unmoved by the concept - by the time they booked the flight to Newcastle with the CalAir pilots, she was positively sick of them counting the signs of their soulmated-bliss.

The flight itself was short, of course, but somehow the day managed to be exhausting, and for the first time in many, many years, she didn’t bother to check her hair before she went to bed that night.

To give credit where it was due, Herc only left her two excited voicemails while she was sleeping.

 


	3. Eggs

 

Arthur was collecting the eggs when he heard the car - and he looked up, as he always did, ready to give the visitor a welcoming wave, only to pale immediately on recognising the numberplate of the land rover that was approaching.

Moving as fast as he dared while carrying the eggs, he scuffled out of the hens’ enclosure, almost tripping over Edwina as he went. Arthur squeaked and apologised to her, and shut the wire gate behind him just in time to stop Diego, the rooster, from following him out.

He deposited the eggs in the basket he’d accidentally left outside, then sprinted across the yard and round the back of the house, heading for the barn. Douglas met him halfway.

“Arthur? Is everything alright?”

“Where’s Mum?” Arthur asked, seeming not to here. “Is she out with the sheep? Is she–”

“It’s Tuesday,” Douglas said. “She’ll be at the market. What’s happened?”

“It's—my dad’s here,” Arthur said, eyes wide in horror. “He can’t be here while Mum isn’t here. He might to try to steal the farm—”

“Arthur,” said Douglas calmly, putting a hand on his shoulder, “He can’t steal the farm. Alright? He can’t. Not even in that ugly great car of his, it wouldn’t fit.”

Arthur looked somewhat relieved at this.

“Tell you what, I was just going to refill the troughs on the top field,” Douglas continued. “But you’d probably be better at that, I can never remember which way round the taps go. Could you do me a favour, and sort that out, while I go and see what your father wants?”

Arthur nodded. “I can do that.”

“There’s a good lad.” Douglas patted him on the arm as they parted. He made his way back around to the main yard, mouth set in a firm line. Gordon Shappey wouldn’t know what had hit him.

(Although it had just walked out of the pig sty, so maybe he would be able to guess.)

 


	4. Picnic/Forever

 

Someone - probably Arthur - had introduced Aida to the ‘Teddy-Bears’ Picnic’ song, and ever since, Martin and Theresa’s lives had been soundtracked almost constantly by their daughter singing the chorus, over and over again. Nobody was saying it wasn’t adorable - but by the seven thousandth rendition, it was getting a little tired, to say the least.

Matters were only compounded by Douglas recommending, in the young princess’s earshot, a little wood on the outskirts of Fitton - visible from Douglas’s house - and perfect, he claimed, for teddy-bears’ picnics.

“I hear they like Saturdays best,” he said, casually. “That’s if you’re interested in that sort of thing.”

Aida was definitely interested, and so off they went, that Saturday, all four of them: Martin carrying the picnic basket, Theresa carrying the baby, and Aida carrying Toby, the large stuffed bear Arthur had given her when she was tiny. He was still so large in comparison to his five-year-old owner that she had trouble seeing in front of her as she walked, but refused any and all offers of help.

They had a pleasant walk through the woods, with baby Carlos cooing happily and Aida chatting amiably to Toby (addressing him by his full name, Toblerone, when the discussion became more serious). Then, they came to the clearing Douglas had mentioned, and found, to Martin and Theresa’s surprise and Aida’s unbounded delight, a group of bears, all shapes and sizes, gathered around a rather enormous picnic blanket. Each bear had a little plate in front of its paws, and the hamper in the centre was overflowing with food.

“Wow!” exclaimed Aida, running over. “Uncle Douglas was right! It’s really real!”

Martin and Theresa looked suspiciously around, but saw nobody… until there was a ruffle in the bushes opposite, and Arthur emerged, followed by Douglas, both grinning madly.

“Fancy seeing you here,” said Douglas grandly.

“I can’t believe…” Martin said, still gazing around. “Thank you, Douglas, this is really… lovely.”

“Well,” said Douglas, shrugging, as the others took their places between bears, around the edge of the blanket. “Since you have the indecency to move back to Liechtenstein tomorrow, I thought it was only fair that we make you feel very, very guilty about it, by being extra nice.”

Martin hummed. It was going to be difficult, moving back after a blissful three months on his old soil - but that was how it had to be. They had always known it would be temporary - Theresa still had responsibilities, and he had his job. Aida needed to start school. There was no getting around it. “She’ll remember this forever, you know,” he said, watching Aida pour an imaginary cup of tea for Toby, who was now perched between two bears Martin vaguely recognised from Arthur’s bedroom.

She seemed to sense him watching her, and looked up. She patted the piece of blanket next to her. “Come and sit down, Daddy. We need to sing the song before we start.”

And thus, the umpteenth chorus was sung: for every bear that ever there was…

He couldn’t imagine how he’d ever thought the words were tired.

 


End file.
